Marty, thanks!
by SugarBubbles2000
Summary: A rewrite of the scene in Episode 4 of the 2010 TellTale Game where Marty has to save 1931!Emmett from falling to his death. Small Emmett/Marty (Mammett) themes, nothing too strong.


With a deal of effort, Marty had been able to work enough momentum to swing himself backwards and forwards while his hands held a literal death grip onto the glazed rope ignoring the aching signals from his arms demanding to let go. Once he neared Emmett, he futilely attempted to reach out to grab whatever. The taller teen, who had spent the last ten or so minutes dangling upside down and was sure all the blood and fluid in him had reached his head, grabbed hold onto the hem of Marty's brown pants, tugging at the fabric.

"Gotcha!" Marty exclaimed.

"Let's get out of here!" Emmett whined, not wanting to stand another minute of being moments away from immediate death. Though there was one more issue to be dealt with.

"Your pants! They're stuck!"

" _Do_ something before we're crushed!"

Marty let one of his hands go and tried to reach out yet again to Emmett but his other hand almost slackened its grip. The both of them yelped simultaneously.

Luckily in this moment he was able to think fast. He immediately fished out Emmett's bottled anti-stain formula - which unfortunately but not inordinarily did not completely work to its intended purpose - and sprayed it onto the white pant hem hooked onto the dog statue.

"W-what are you doing?!"

It looked silly but it probably will work as a fabric ripper. "Trust me." Marty calmly stated, debatably more to himself than anyone. "Hold on!"

A loud sound of ripping fabric could be heard and Emmett was moments later freed from the statue. The rope wobbled between them and their bodies was left flailing uncontrollably around for a few seconds before the rope steadied. Their hands seemed to be the only thing preventing them from being completely propelled off by the immense force.

Emmett glanced up to Marty. "What did you say your name was again?" Emmett called out. In his almost complete blow up only minutes ago, he hadn't fully registered all what he had said, embarrassingly. Marty began his descent and slowly climbed down, letting one arm go and placed underneath the other, choosing not to slide down as to not wanting to feel that excruciating pain from the ropeburn. Not that his fingers were red enough already from the rope torture. He stopped, meeting Emmett face to face, a little too close to be legal.

"Marty." He stated with a stoic face.

"Marty..." Thinking about it, that name sounded so foreign and yet it fitted him so much more than his previous alias. _Michael just sounds awful now._ "-thanks!" He gave a grateful smile. It was the least he could say.

"Don't mention it." Marty returned a quick small smile before looking down as he prepared himself.

They simultaneously let go of the rope and plummeted to the ground, landing with a loud thud and an "oof!" from the both of them. They lay on the cold ground for a few moments before Emmett began to stir. Funny, it didn't hurt as much considering they pretty much hit rock ground flat-on. It felt more comforting and warm if anything..

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting clothed shoulders and a pale neck instead of the coal-grey concrete he assumed. It was only then that Emmett realised that he had, one way or the other, landed on top of the poor guy, probably crushing his small body.

"Oh, pardon my behaviour, I didn't mean to.." Emmett's voice floundered. He began to prop himself on his elbows, his face flushing.

All the while, it took Marty a few seconds to realise what had happened and when he did, his eyes grew alert, staring at the future scientist on top of him. His lips were slightly agape, almost forming a round 'O'. Emmett's eyes caught his and for some reason, he ceased his awkward shuffling off him and stared right back.

One side of Marty's mouth curved into a small smile and he compulsively reached his hand out and brushed his fingertips along the length of Emmett's jawline, feeling the firm boney structure under his skin. Emmett found himself slightly leaning into the touch for no uncoordinated reason before he lifted his hand and curled his fingers around Marty's wrist, pulling his hand away.

"I really mean it. Thank you." he enunciated. He had slowly released his fingers and readjusted his hand until his fingers began intertwining themselves into Marty's warmer ones. Marty returned the gesture, closing his fingers over his knuckles.

They lingered their gaze into each other a moment a little too longer before Emmett's expression capriced to a more focused one. He blinked a few times and staggered up, pulling Marty along with him. Intentionally or unintentionally, their hands did not let go of each other. Thankfully Detective Parker wasn't around to catch them acting _indecently_. Indecently to the society of 1931's standards at least.

"Tungsten..." Emmett placed an inquisitive finger to his chin as he audibly brainstormed to himself. It was a very, very common sight Marty saw from Doc many times, and it was amusing to see that his much younger self held that too. _Some things never change..._

"The catalyst will need to be made out of tungsten, given the temperature within the converter will not doubt be intense. We'll have to harvest the filaments from all the lightbulbs at my house…"


End file.
